


So the world can see the night

by boy_with_the_glasses



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Not quite Bad End, WoL became Light Warden
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23199868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boy_with_the_glasses/pseuds/boy_with_the_glasses
Summary: When he had two choices before him, to die and doom the world, or survive, become a monster and doom the world again, he chose what he felt was best. He chose... to protect. Or, Ryne isn't experienced enough to stop the transformation. WoL decides that no, he won't be the death of his friends and family.Features: hopeful Scions, confused inhabitants of The First, frustrated Emet Selch and starry-eyed Crystal Exarch.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 58





	1. Choice

**Author's Note:**

> I finished Shadowbringers, I have FEELS. If you want to comment - which will make me very happy - know that I was partly spoiled followed patches and do not mind even more spoilers.  
> Can misplace some terms since I play German/Japanese client.

Losing, he thought, felt like ashes on his tongue. 

He could see Ryne hovering above him, her little controlled light encasing him in a feeble attempt to lock up whatever was trying to crawl its way out inside of him. Rin’s form was quickly fading in the engulfing white, sane thoughts were becoming scattered and unclear. He could feel and taste aether in the air and failed to convince himself the defeat still tasted bitter than it. Stop some primal, alien part of his give in and latch onto it. He knew it would be his end. Their end. 

_Will you bow down?_

**No.**

He had pride. He had bloody pride with which he always gritted his teeth and pushed forward till he grabbed victory by its throat. He went against Gods. He slew and befriended bloody dragons. He won two counties over and forced the ‘Great Empire’ to back off. He _brought back the night itself_ like some mythological creature from the legends from before. He won’t be put down on his knees by damned _light_ , of all things, by something that was supposed to lead him, yet now apparently wished to control him. 

Where lesser beings caved, he would stay victorious. 

He had no strength left to hold the light back. He could feel how fickle Ryne’s powers were compared to his own. Four Light Bringers and the halfbreed created to rule over them - their combined might be ripping his body apart.

Yet he won’t give up what it wanted him to give.

He won’t give up his soul.

_Bloody never._

Emeth-Seth might have wished him “Bon appetite” - what an utter _jerk_ \- and he had something to answer to that ‘goodwill’. 

_Damn you, old man. I am not dying today._

He did what he does best. He gritted his teeth, waved Ryne off - right into Thankred’s hands if his senses didn’t fail him yet - and invited the light _in._

It broke him down almost in a matter of seconds. Burst up his skin turning it white. Filled his mouth stealing his voice. His claws dig into the stone marble, breaking it, splitting it. His back arched, he couldn’t even scream of how painful it was, how much suffering it brought on him. 

The light reached his mind, intending to wipe it clean. 

Stopped.

And then was pushed back. 

Because he _would_ give up his body. He chose it when the first Light Bringer has fallen, when The Crystal Exarch - G'raha Tia you bloody _idiot_ , _**why**_ \- told him he could contain their light inside and return the beauty of the night to those form whom it was stolen _hundred_ years ago. To those who never saw it, yet dreamed one day to see. Whose tears and joy were all worth it. 

But who said he would _ever_ give up his mind?

Because his mind was a radiance of his soul, the last bastion of sanity. It was the core of his choices and decisions, his devotion and his conviction. 

_So what if_ he couldn’t contain the light? _What if_ he was imperfect being to live and die?

As if that _ever_ stopped him. 

He was the Light Bringer that kept the sky bright. He was a sole commander of the enormous light, with no sin eater left alive on this side of the Flood. Vaulthry could control it, and he was a halfbreed. So what was going to happen if one properly bred creature decides to keep all the light to itself?

He grinned, the maw full of teeth. Oh, he won’t crawl to Emeth-Seth on his knees begging for a quick and painless death. If the ascian wanted the reunion of the worlds so badly, he would have to crawl to _him_ instead. And beg the creature his kind were kin to invoke everywhere they pleased. 

_Enough aether to create a miracle._

_Enough will-power to make it right._

_Sin Eater turned Primal by a force of one mortal being. What would I have given to see it for myself?_

He thought back to dragons, white scales blossoming on his giant deformed body. They scaled his tail. His horns lengthened and remained black. 

_The mortal body was not created to hold such power inside. A miracle I never caved before. Yet here I am, pulling the short stick and deciding it is a win over a long one._

_Live, my friends. My family._

_Stop Emeth. Bring G'raha back._

_I entrust this world to you._

_Perhaps one day..._

_...we will meet again._

He could taste the aether much clearer, much hungrier now. He felt little shapes under his feet and leveled his cold blue gaze at them, teeth bared and wings flared. Yet he snapped the maw shut as soon as the thought to devour came. 

Livings beings weren’t food. Mortals were friends. Humans were to be protected. 

The hunger pressed on him and he knew he had to get away. He was their protector. He was the one born to shield them from the light.

He was the embodiment of the light to contain the light. He was a creature of the legends summoned to fulfill his role. 

He took into the blazed with the light sky and roared, enraged at himself. How could he let it slip? How could he let it steal the night from the inhabitants of this world? How could he, how could he, how could he?!

He needed to fix it, _now_. Before they became disappointed with their guardian. Before they realized he almost let his primal anger speak for him and _ruin_ his vow to them. 

He unfolded his wings, the radiance as bright as his resolve, and fled to the sky. His angry snarl made the skies tremble, light silently shrieking and _bowing_ to his will. He took it in himself, where it belonged, and crammed it down. He saw speckles of light escaping his grasp and bursting into white-winged _ugly_ creatures which instantly turned its noses towards mortals down below. 

It drove him mad. 

He slashed at every creature created by his light, be it with claws or tail or even wings. They stood no chance against him, big or small. They disappeared down his maw or were sliced in half as if by a blade. 

He didn’t use a blade, of course. He didn’t need those beautiful weapons. They were for mortals to use. 

When the last ugly creature lost its struggle and was devoured by him, he gave one last lingering look at the marble platform below where a bunch of mortals stood, shouting their throats dry. He could feel the longing in his chest. Who were they for him to distinguish them from the others? Were they his priests? His most loyal followers? Those who knew it was against his nature to mark anyone with his power, yet still continued to come to demonstrate their gratitude. 

He almost let his hunger destroy them. He was unworthy of their devotion. 

He soared higher in the sky, marveling how the light died down by his order to reveal the beauty of the night. That’s how the sky was supposed to be. And that was his duty to uphold it. 

The mighty marble construct atop of the flying mountain looked like his residence, his shrine, yet he has found it as ugly as the creatures born from the excess of his light. What was that shape connecting the ground and his lair? 

Did something happened and mortals come for his wisdom?

Oh, how ashamed he was to land back and present himself before them. They saw the night disappear and climbed to his throne for answers, and what did he give them apart from aggressive, unworthy of a guardian like him greeting with teeth bared and hunger tangible?

His most loyal followers whom he didn’t even mark and that’s how he treated them. No wonder they were shouting curses at him now. 

No, he won’t get back to them. If not out of shame, then out of fear. He was dangerous. He could have turned them into monsters with his light. They should know, yet they came. He didn’t want to accidentally harm them. 

If the construct was a place of his shameful failure, he would make his lair elsewhere. It was all good as long it was far enough from mortals and their settlements. Someplace where he could draw all the light in and keep it there with him. A self-inflicted prison he was born to maintain. 

The giant roots of a great tree and the monster banished from there flashed through his mind, and he turned to the forest that he knew were behind the mountains chain. He flew and the light followed him, leaving the land he had found himself on free. He could feel how the light that was spread above the other provinces was retreating as well, drawn to his presence. When he reached the forest, his body was full of radiant light, yet he refused to let it go. He had found the three from his mugged memories and clawed to its roots right through the branches, folding his wings to save them from unpleasant sensation. Somewhere nearby the waterfalls blustered. The eerie silence hung in this familiar yet alien space. His claws scratched the stone and he realized he reached the three’s base. 

He looked around. 

Quiet. Deserted. Hard to reach. Hidden under the massive roots and branches. The name came to his mind. The great Ruins of Ronka Empire. Abandoned, yet protected by guardians. Would be they kind enough to be his guards? To not let mortals in. To not let him inflict harm on anyone. 

He took a deep breath and _pulled_. 

The light came crashing down around him, unwilling. He bounded it regardless, safely containing it under the brunches, not letting even the speckle of it reach higher and touch the world outside.

He could see the dark night sky above the brunches. He could see how everything below them was basked into the light. He could feel how it has found residence in his body and obeyed his orders. No more grotesque creatures inflicting it on others. No more blinding brightness across the world. The bliss of peace now was bestowed on mortals and it was his sole duty to preserve it by never letting the light out. 

Yet despite fulfilling his purpose, he had never felt emptier. 

_I’ve made self much colder_   
_Just to make the world feel warm_   
_I live in winter’s fury_   
_So the world can see the sun_   
_  
''What Have I Become'' by All Good Things_


	2. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even when his wings trembled with the desire to soar, he remained on the ground. It's how mortals find him... and those for whom mortality is forgotten.

It has started with apples, randomly appearing under the great tree’s roots. 

His new place of solitude was quiet, undisturbed. He was guided here by the scarce memories of it. In past it was guarded by the great three-headed god. He remembered banishing the dog, as a punishment for inflicting Light on mortals, as a retribution for stealing the night from the forest’s inhabitants. Now he slept where the dog once was, keeping his might collected under his wings, shoving it to the ground and holding there. 

And one mortal woman seemed to be brave enough to wander into his nest, into his self-inflicted prison, just to leave apple’s splinters in her wake.

He thought of her as a wise one, observing him from afar, not even from the same ground level, always perching on top of the roots and keeping her weapon close. That was how it should be, her fearing him, knowing just what his single touch might do to her flesh, twist from inside, turn into a vile mindless creature. 

Unfortunately, he had to reserve his observation when the woman has started to shift closer her every visit. 

She didn’t exactly try to close the distance. She was still far above him, never dropping from the roots, and that was what made him wonder if that woman was more than a common lancer. Her confidence in her skills was noticeable, her step light and measured. She never seemed uncomfortable on the roots, never felt threatened by the great height she traversed upon. All the while, her weapon, her faithful lance, was always by her side, never getting in the way of her movements. 

If he had to admit it, he was mesmerized by her. 

For some reason, his stillness gnawed at him. His wings itched to take flight. As if he shouldn’t waste his time obligingly lying on his belly. The thought infuriated him. How dare he disrespect his own duty! That was his sole purpose of existing, protecting mortals from the deathly influence of the Light. That meant no slumber, no rest. That meant day and night containing his power, not letting smaller creatures be born from it. That meant to bear his solitude and do not repeat the same mistake that led his trusted followers to climb to his sanctuary and beg for salvation. 

And that’s what they've begged for, haven’t they? He couldn’t recall their faces or voices, but they have cried for him. Even when he had awakened and tore treacherous creatures from the skies when he forced the Light back into his core, they still cried, still begged, and he felt deep shame taking place into his very being. 

How dare he now question his seclusion? What right did he have to raise his selfish voice after such failure?

It was the woman, he decided, that sowed those thoughts. He watched her come and go, watched her devouring apples and leaving splinters, watched her move freely, unchained. Unburdened. It was breaking his morals, he then concluded, seeing something so full of freedom spirit, something which can make its own decisions and be no slave to its own powers. 

The woman must go. 

So he had waited for her to come again, and she did, placing herself right above him, hidden from his furious gaze by the roots. He needed to chase her away. He needed to scare her into submission, but not wound by his power. He didn’t wish the curse of Light upon her.

He raised his black-horned head and roared. 

The great tree trembled under his might. The roots, big and strong as they were, shook as if leaves on the wind, and he saw woman darting away from them, away from him, weapon ready to strike, ready to take down the foe. He gleefully bared his teeth. Yes, that was right! Run, mortal soul, run! Away from the creature beyond your comprehension, away from the God who has chosen its place as his keep. Take away those thoughts of sweet freedom that shouldn’t plague his mind, shouldn’t tire him into alluring slumber. 

Let the guilty one bear his shame into sacred solitude. 

* * *

He hadn't seen the woman ever since, and the apple splinters were soon eaten by the birds.

Selfish desire to take flight didn't abandon him, and with it, shame. It weighed on his massive body, more so than Light's persistent demand to be released. It spurred his mind, forced him to consider leaving the lair if only for the brief moment, and he hated how his claws scraped the stone in the vain attempt to chase blasphemous weakness away.

That's how the human had found him, bound by misery and letting pitiful whines.

He wanted to lash out. He wasn't feeling as merciful as with the woman, and something about the human drove his sane mind into an overwhelming frenzy. Only his sincere wish to not harm mortals, protect them instead, prevented him from swallowing the offending figure with his maw. 

He laid his half-sane gaze on the human, and all his doubts were wiped.

That, that wasn't a mortal casually strolling to him, heedless of any dangers posed by the great beast. It wore a face of the one, was similar in body and form, yet he knew, he instantly knew this _creature_ had no dealings with mortals.

It was exactly the opposite.

And something buried deep under the all-engulfing Light rushed to the surface. Faces, words, binds, he couldn't make sense of them, couldn't even hold onto any, yet in crystal clarity, he'd heard a deafening shot, heard a body falling on the ground, heard mocking words ringing in the world turning white. The sorrow, the twisted acceptance, yet denial and broken hope.

Relief. Happiness. Despair. Grief. 

Hatred. 

Name.

**_Emet-Selch._ **

"How dare you..."

The creature stopped its confident advance. 

"How dare you!.."

And he raised his head, blazing blue locking with astonished yellow.

" **How. Dare. YOU!** "

He lashed out, not the ounce of regret marring his features, no hesitation binding his swings. The creature dispersed into the black mist, reappeared at the roots above, and he was having _none_ of it.

He opened his maw the golden magnificent light singed the roots to ashes.

It didn't stop the creature, as it evaded him again and again and again. It was, perhaps, attempting to speak with him, to reason, or maybe beg for its pitiful live - though something had told him it wouldn't - but as it continued to evade him and his wrath, he felt it was tiring out. Not from the constant evasion it seemed. The Light was pressing down on it, and it took the effort to ward it away.

He was, for once, grateful for his curse. The creature might not be turned into a monster where any mortal would have been at this point, yet it wasn't unaffected. The Light was burning. The Light was harming. The Light was breaching its barriers he couldn't even dream breaching before on his own. 

He didn't remember facing this creature before. Yet from his hatred to it, he probably did. 

What was the greatest sin that could have angered him that much? That could force him to unleash his power despite his disgust to it?

The harm to humanity. The harm to the mortal souls.

The harm to those whom he... _loved._

_Just whom... did I love?_

He could _smell_ when the creature tired itself, when it abruptly stopped just out of his flame's reach. Its clothes were singed, its hair was disheveled, and he was disgusted how close it resembled humans that he was bound to protect.

"I must confess, I was hardly expecting this," it said, putting the little sparks down with the wave of its hand. They were swept and shunt by the dark, painfully familiar mist. "Who would have known that a primal could be born from the Light. Ah, managing to disappoint me so easily and then turn out to be full of surprises. What I am left to say, hm? Truly a Warrior of Darkness. Or would you prefer a Warrior of Light again?"

He growled.

"Hmm, you might have fewer brain cells than I thought you'd have. But you know, I'm getting a little tired with your meager attempts to keep the Light confined. Why don't you let it out into the world instead of aiming it at me?"

He unfurled his wings, the blazing gold amassing again to fire.

"Would it bother you that much to point this head of yours up rather than at me?" It sighed and then pointed at him something he couldn't quite describe, but radiating danger and darkness, and starting to suffocate him with its appearance alone. He didn't know what the creature was planning to throw at him, and he didn't come to find out, since the familiar spear almost pierced the creature through and drove it away. It cursed and changed its aim, only for the barrage of arrows to stop it again. 

He put out his flame and looked up.

There, at the highest untouched by his rampage roots, stood the woman he had chased away. She swept down immediately, plucking her lance out and rushing at the creature, not letting it even a moment of reprieve. Her assault was supported by another two women, one with a bow, and the other with a staff and magic raining from the sky. The creature was not so effortlessly repelling their combined attacks, and he used the opening and almost stroke the creature down with his tail. It evaded, barely, disappearing into the black mist of the portal.

He waited for it to come out again. It didn't.

Women eyed him warily. He couldn't deny they came to his help, and it would be rude of him as the humanity guardian to chase them away now. He inclined his head in silent gratitude.

The elder, and he didn't know why he'd assumed that, nodded tersely at that. Her restrained behavior stirred something in his mind.

"Almet."

" _What?!"_ The one with the lance almost shrieked, utterly scandalized for some reason. "No! No-no-no-no-no! He did not just recognize you first after I came here day after day after day after day! It's just not fair!"

Almet gave the woman a look. "So that's where you've been all days long. When I specifically stated that no one was allowed to go down the ravine, you purposely went against my authority, Uimet."

"Ugh..."

The last woman lightly patted Uimet on the shoulder. "Take it easy, sister. If it wasn't for your little outings, we wouldn't have suspected anything wrong and wouldn't be able to come to our friend's aid."

"Cyyyymeeeeeet!"

"Don't patronize her, Cymet. When we're back at Fanow, I will hand her a well-deserved punishment."

"Do not." He'd found himself interjecting, his voice deep and rumbling. The women tensed on his approach, and he obligingly stopped and put his massive body down. "She... helped."

His complacent seemed to reassure them.

"Apologies, esteemed guardian, let me introduce us to you as appropriate. As you are, we are guardians in our own right, but our duty is to protect the ancient empire and the forest where you have found refuge. You may not remember us, but we owe you a great debt, and we are honored to protect your peace. My name is Almet, as you may know, and these are my sisters, Uimet and Cymet."

He looked them over, searching his mind for memories. He couldn't remember meeting them, though the names now rang with familiarity. He brought his gaze at the one named Uimet, the lancer.

"Why did you come?"

"Eh? 'Cuz I wanted to?" She shrugged, albeit awkwardly. "I kind of saw you making your way here and decided to check it out. You ain't like other white menaces, and then there came that loud bunch all but screaming sis's ears off and demanding to know if we saw a dragon, and, Ronka forbids, yeah we did. We ain't said them it though, with you being down the ravel and not really appreciating company - I'm still mad at you scaring the Night out of me actually - and then we heard the fight. Hard to miss that golden flame of yours."

He had listened intently, then turned to Almet for clarification. She probably read his confusion perfectly and with a loud exhale and reprimanding glare at her mouthy sister, began her own explanation.

"My sister's right. We saw you above the forest, the brightest of suns in the night, and how you fled into the ravine where the three-headed beast used to feast. I commanded no one to go down into the ravine and, as you may have noticed, my sister disobeyed my orders and did as she pleased. However, thanks to her sorties, we were not so surprised when a group of people close to our savior arrived in our settlement. They demanded to know if we had seen a great white dragon in the sky, and although we felt beholden to them, we did not tell them the truth. You see, honored guardian, we wanted to talk to you in person before we let people come to you. Don't take this as an insult, but you are very dangerous to mortal races."

He had a feeling she was leaving out a lot, but he couldn't be mad at her for it. If not for them, he would have been at that creature's mercy, the memory of the amassed darkness still fresh in his mind.

"Thank you." He bowed his horned head to them again.

There was a moment of silence.

"Tell us, dear guardian. Do you remember your name?" 

He looked back at them, at the youngest sister, Cymet, tentatively asking it of him.

He opened his maw.

"I have none."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I've made [pictures](https://twitter.com/boyandglasses/status/1272835095523704833) of The Qitana Ravel. I endlessly love how the place looks. The actual dungeon? Not so much.  
> > Me putting Emet in: "Okay how do you write the most pompous ass in existence."  
> > Do you remember those three bunny sisters from Fanow? I hope you do,  
> > Ah, yes, that's my twitter there, but I have to warn you, FF14 isn't my main interest. I'm always up to speak about it, but I rarely post smth from the game. More often than not, I repost Persona 5 content, so, yeah, be aware.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, suggestions, and recommendations are always welcomed and appreciated. I a new writer who never expected to come into FF14 fandom. It's big and scary. Any feedback counts. Thank you for reading uwu


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